


Don't Make Me Put 'Em Up

by Anonymous



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Future Fic, Hockey fights!, Homophobia, M/M, NHL AU, NHL Bitty, angry bitty, major league bitty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-14
Updated: 2016-10-14
Packaged: 2018-08-22 08:23:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8279333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: “Your little boyfriend just dropped gloves!”Jack looked shocked as did everyone else. Bittle never dropped gloves.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song by priory

“Hey, Zimmboni, you want we should be going easy on your little pie maker?”

Jack huffed a small laugh to himself at Tater’s chirp, not looking up from where he was lacing his skate. The rest of the Falconers team joined in on the jibes and he smiled good-naturedly feeling very at home in the locker room with his teammates.

“Only if you want us to go easy on Kenny,” he replied, earning impressed ‘oooh’s from Snowy and the rest as they danced around their foreign captain who just laughed thunderously, a dopey grin on his face.

“Kenny is being best in league,” the Russian enthused, chest swelling with pride as he took to his feet and smiled. Sometimes Jack swore he thought the sun rose out of Parse’s backside. “Not need going easy.”

He hummed his ascent, finishing up with his skate just as coach called them forward for the usual quick pre-game peptalk.

Jack hadn't been the only person that was surprised that Eric followed hockey out of university, his speed and unique skating style catching the eye of several NHL teams by the time he was a senior and acting as Samwell’s captain. The whole Haus had been besides themselves with excitement for their smallest teammate when he broke the news. The blonde had politely declined Jack’s offer to get him drafted to the Falconers, stating he wanted to make it onto a team on his own merit and not his boyfriend’s sway. It had worked out in their favor in the end since as soon as Bittle had been picked up by a team the pair had come out as homosexual, thoroughly shocking the sports world. Tater and Kent had followed not long after and once the initial flurry and influx of expected hate mail had passed, things actually settled down quite nicely. The whole country seemed to just get over the fact that two of the Falconers players were dating two of the Aces players.

Eric accepting the offer from the Las Vegas Aces had probably shocked Jack more than his boyfriend’s admittance to loving hockey enough to follow it into adulthood. The college sweethearts had had a very small tiff over the matter, but in the end Eric put his foot down stating he could play anywhere he pleased and he would be glad to have a friendly face in Kenny during all the traveling he would be doing. The two blondes had gotten on much better after Alexei let slip he was dating the Aces captain and Eric actually held a lot of respect for the older man as a player and now a friend. They worked well on the ice together earning themselves plenty of praise in Bittle’s rookie year as a power pair.

Of course there had been those that tried to paint the picture of a torrid love affair and messy love triangle between the Aces captain and two former Samwell captains, but when nothing came from the rumors people let that go as well. Jack and Eric never rose to the bait at interviews together or apart and Kenny only ever had good things to say about Bittle as a player. All his extra praise went to Alexei who returned it tenfold whenever a reporter dared to get him off on such a tangent. They kept their professional lives professional and their private lives private.

By the time Eric’s first year in the league had ended everything had calmed down. But now he was starting off his second year with a game against the Falconers and predictably everyone was chattering about it. Alexei and Jack playing against their ‘little boyfriends’ was a regular topic of conversation as the game had loomed closer both in interviews and the locker room and now it had come to a head as coach gave the floor over to Tater.

“I expect everyone to be playing best,” their captain boomed, helmet pulled down snugly over his mop of hair, “Just because Kenny and Eric on other team not mean we go easy on them.”

“As if we would,” Elliot, a recent rookie, grumbled. The other Falconers laughed amicably, jostling their ‘traitor’ teammates a bit as coach started to herd them towards the doors. Jack frowned, however, casting a sideways look at Elliot.

The young man was a bit rough around the edges, thus far fitting into the team by delivering very sharp chirps, and so Jack couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic in a playful way or sarcastic in a caustic way. All the Falconers had spent time with Eric and Kent over the last few years and were very fond of the opposing pair, but Elliot was so new to the team that there was no telling how he felt about the men. Or men on men. If not for how often he and the baker appeared on magazine fronts together, Jack wouldn’t even be sure Elliot knew what Bittle looked like.

“You are making funny, Elliot,” Alexei hummed, tilting his head at the rookie not unlike Jack had, “But Zimmboni tell you same thing.”

The stocky man turned to Jack, thick brow furrowed down in what could have been anything from mild irritation to complete disgust. It put Jack on edge but he shrugged his wide shoulders casually none the less, pinning the rookie in his gaze.

“Play it like any other game.”

“Enemy spies!”

Snowy’s battle cry was met with a swell of chirping aimed at Alexei and Jack as they exited the locker room to find two blonde Aces waiting expectantly on the opposite wall.

“You come wish us good luck in defeating you,” Tater smiled, swooping in to crowd Kenny, his teammates aiming slaps to the back of his jersey as he bumped helmets with the shorter man. “Is nice.”

“Y'all wish,” Eric chirped, bumping fists with Thirdy before greeting Jack with a proper hug. They hadn't seen each other in a week. “Just came to let you know we're gonna wipe the ice with you.”

Jack chuckled low down in his chest, wishing he hadn't already donned his helmet so that he could kiss his boyfriend. The other Falconers filed out, giving the two couples space after reminding both captains not to be sharing secrets. Bitty looked good in the Aces uniform and Jack had conceded a long time ago that Falconers blue wasn't his boy’s color. He hugged him tight, their team emblems pressing together between them.

“Good luck out there,” he murmured, hearing Alexei and Kent talking softly in Russian further down the hall. Eric hummed pleasantly.

“Won't need it,” he stated cockily before hugging Jack just a touch tighter, “But you too, hon.”

Both couples parted reluctantly, dropping more well wishes and empty threats, and the two blondes headed off towards their own tunnel, talking strategy as they went.

“I am thinking we both have type, eh Zimbonni?” Alexei joked, somehow managing to grin even wider than usual now that he'd seen his little boyfriend. “Tough, mouthy blondes.”

Jack snorted in surprise, shooting his captain an amused smirk as they started to head towards the ice. He wouldn't admit that he agreed.

“Don't let Kent hear you say that.”

* * *

 

  
“Oof!” Eric huffed out a breath as he managed to shove the Falconer just hard enough that he hit the boards and the puck escaped to be snatched up by Kent flying the opposite direction. He smiled, backing away from the rookie who had needed to catch himself on his gloves, and offered a friendly smile. “Sorry ‘bout that, contact sport and all.”

He had meant it to be a joke and every other time he'd used it in the game the Falconer he'd checked had just laughed and playfully shoved his head. They were all on pretty friendly terms and so there was never any hard feelings, but when this guy looked up Eric could tell he definitely wasn't feeling very friendly.

“Whatever,” he grouched, moving to skate around Eric but not forgetting to knock the other man’s shoulder roughly with his own. Bittle winced more in surprise than in pain and watched the new guy skate off with a face like thunder. Kent smacked the puck into the net and the crowd cheered wildly as the pie maker watched on.

“Alright, Itty Bitty?”

Eric grimaced a smile at Thirdy and nodded his head, moving back towards center ice.

“Yeah,” he insisted though he wasn't so sure, “Yeah, I'm alright.”

The game went on and Eric started to notice this new guy was targeting him. Well, him and Kent. Anywhere the two Aces went to complete a play the burly Falconer would plow in to check them to the boards or to the ice. At one point Bittle swore he'd literally seen the other player stick a skate out to trip him, but every time a member from either team asked if he was okay he played oblivious, not wanting to distract anyone. Hockey was a contact sport after all.

It wasn't until the guy, Elliot, rushed Kent practically into the net that the ref came into the huddle threatening to slap the Falconer with a major penalty if he kept playing rough. Eric glanced at Kent with a sympathetic grimace. His captain’s nose was bleeding and his chin was red with ice burn from where he'd slid on his face nearly smashing his helmet into the goal post. Tater hovered over him as the ref checked him out, face peppered with concern around a clear wall of irritation.

“Need to being more careful, Elliot,” the Russian warned, eyes narrowed at the rookie who look offended at being called out.

“You said to play it like any other game,” he bit back and Eric frowned as he felt his boyfriend rest a heavy gloved hand on his shoulder. He fought the urge to lean into the touch and instead skated towards Kent, grabbing his teammate under the elbow to help him off the ice.

“It's fine,” he assured, not meeting Jack’s eye as he slid passed Elliot, “We're fine.”

The young man hissed something under his breath so low a filthy that it made Eric whip his head around in shock. The rookie looked like he couldn't even spare the opposing player the time of day as his captain chewed into him more about playing fair, but Bitty was positive he'd heard it. The dirty little slur that had followed him around on and off all his life.

“That guy’s kind of a dick,” Kent sniffed, wincing as his swollen nose flared with pain. Definitely broken. Eric turned back around to him feeling a bit dazed as he realized they had already reached the side of the rink. “Like seriously.”

“It's only his first year.” Eric forced out a slightly manic laugh before catching the rookie in his sites across the ice. “Bless his heart.”

Everyone that knew Eric Bittle knew what that phrase meant and the Aces captain hummed his consent to whatever the shorter man was planning as he made his way towards the bench. Once he was situated and his replacement slid onto the ice Eric left him, waving a glove over his shoulder when his captain told him to give the other team hell.

The game went on and Bitty noticed the new guy was heavy which meant he wasn’t very fast. While Eric was on his way to possibly being named the fastest player in the league, Elliot seemed to lope across the ice using his brute strength to check people out of the way. Once the Ace realized this was able to literally skate circles around the rookie and actually winded up getting in a few checks of his own in on his aggressor. Each such contact would end up sending a confusing message to the crowd since both Aces and Falconers would cheer on the tiny skater, knocking gloves upside his helmet as Elliot seemed to grow more and more frustrated as the periods dragged on. When he was on the bench Bitty noticed how the rookie wasn’t nearly as aggressive with the other Aces, but as soon as he slid back out Elliot’s face would morph into a scowl. It only got worse when Kenny was allowed back into the game and Jack and Alexei were taking note of it.

“Steer clear him,” the Falconers captain breathed during a face-off as he and Kent crouched In front of each other, sticks at the ready. Eric was off to his captain's right, guarding Jack who nodded his silent agreement with Tater. “He be called for roughing soon.”

“But not for the boarding or charging during the first half,” Kent scoffed, the bruising around his eyes making the ever changing irises pop. Eric mumbled about the tripping as well and their boyfriends frowned, unable to comment before the puck was dropped.

During the play Eric kept low to the ice weaving around other players to quick to be stopped as he looked for an opening to take the puck off Kenny’s hands. His center was doing just fine until Elliot came up, not even in his correct position, and slouched low as if to charge Kenny. Bitty was too fast to let that happen and swooped up on the younger man delivering a blatant cross-check to his chest that halted his forward momentum, but didn’t knock him down. He grunted as the whistle was blown and Eric shoved forward once more, barely caring as the ref slid up to them already making the hand motions indicating the illegal move.

Eric took the minor penalty, color high on his cheeks as he caught the rookie sneering at him while he skated around in a slow circle. Nearly all the other players from both teams were down in the Falconer’s defending zone and so none of them heard what Elliot said just then. But Eric heard it. Clear as day with no mistaking it this time around and said with such venom it was a wonder the ice around them didn’t start to sweat as he spat it out.

“Fag.”

Bittle pulled up short, eyebrows shooting up under his helmet as he looked at Elliot who only smirked and turned away to rejoin his team. The little blonde could feel as his face flushed with rage and he dropped his stick, barely hearing as it slapped down to the ice.

His whole life and hockey career he had had people murmuring that word under their breath or shouting it blatantly in his face. Even when he came out to the NHL with _the_ Jack Zimmermann as his partner people everywhere still turned up their noses and called him things like that. Fag. Queer. Sissy. It didn’t matter he was a professional player in one of the toughest, most aggressive sports in the world; he, Jack, Alexei, and Kent were fags because they just so happened to like other men. They would never be real men as long as they ‘loved sucking cock’. Even members of their own teams could throw that word in their face and not expect any sort of repercussions and frankly Bittle was tired of it and sickened that this rookie thought he deserved to share a jersey with Jack when he called his boyfriend names on the ice.

Only the ref’s aggravated yell of “Hey!” alerted Elliot to anything being off. By the time he turned around Eric had managed to skate almost right up on him and, ignoring the little voice in his head saying ‘What Would Jack Do?’, the little baker dropped his gloves, drew a fist back, and sent it flying into the Falconer’s mouth. His small fist fit right in the space between Elliot’s protective face shield and his chin strap. Right in the sweet spot.

The sound of flesh hitting flesh was minuscule to the rest of the noise in the stadium, but that tiny ‘thwack!’ managed to click the noise level over to thunderous as everyone caught wind of a hockey fight about to break out. The ref immediately blew his whistle again, yelling at Eric that he was facing a major penalty, but the Ace barely heard him as Elliot recovered from the blow and came back with a swift punch of his own. He’d also dropped his gloves.

His hit was more of an uppercut and caught Eric under the chin, sending his onto his ass on the ice. He slid back with a huff, dazed but still in it. His jaw felt like it was on fire and he realized he hadn’t been really punched since he was in middle school.

He took to his skates again as the ref threw a penalty on Elliot and the other players began to approach. Coupled with the other minor penalties he had gotten, he would be benched for the rest of the game. He was still feeling angry and so charged Elliot again, this time coming in low and catching the rookie in the gut first before coming up under his helmet to bruise his knuckles on the younger man’s jaw. The ref tried to push between then, but Elliot, rubbing his chin, quickly skirted him and caught Eric with an elbow to the side, sending the winger sprawling again as a gasp escaped his lips.

“Stay down!” he barked right as Jack slid up, placing hands on his teammate's chest to hold him back as he asked what was going on. “Your little boyfriend just dropped gloves!”

Jack looked shocked as did everyone else. Bittle never dropped gloves. They all turned to the blonde who was being helped up by Kent and Alexei, the former having no qualms about shooting Elliot withering glares and muttering curses in Russian.

“He called me a fag,” Bitty breathed, still feeling a bit winded from the jab to what felt like his kidneys.

“What?!” Jack’s bright blue eyes turned ice cold as he turned to Elliot who only puffed his chest out further, not seeming to notice he had two whole teams of angry hockey players surrounding him. The ref was motioning for others to help break up the impromptu huddle that was going downhill fast.

“So what if I did?” the rookie mused, cocking his head, “What’re you gonna do about it Zimmermann? Stand up for your little bitch?”

All the players looked ready to surge in on him then, but Jack held up a hand to stop them. The Aces turned to check with Kent if they were being called off too, but he just kept his eyes glued to Jack who was breathing low and slow as if trying to calm himself. The crowds were still hollering for a fight; banging on the glass and throwing concession stand garbage onto the ice where they could. There were flashbulbs going off everywhere and Jack’s face was huge up on the jumbo screen as he faced down his own teammate, Eric’s own face blurry in the background.

If he did something now everyone would know about it. There would be sports segments and news articles about how _the_ Jack ZImmermann had turned on his own teammate to defend his ‘little boyfriend’. It’d be like Bittle's rookie year all over again, but probably much worse. That was why, Eric reasoned, Jack merely sighed and shook his head before giving Elliot his back. The rookie wasn’t worth it.

“Queer,” the young man snorted, rolling his eyes haughtily, not noticing the way Jack had frozen on his trek to Bittle's side.

The two former Samwell captains made very meaningful eye contact and Eric nodded his head minutely. They could live with some hectic press coverage for another little bit. Jack turned around, dropped gloves, grabbed Elliot by the shoulders, and smashed their two helmeted heads together with an aggressive shout. Eric yanked from Kent’s hold to surge forward under his boyfriend’s arm and get another lick in to the not-so-smug man’s cheek as he reeled from the headbutt.

After that it was a small flurry of fists and shouting, both teams more or less ganging up on Elliot as he fell to the ice with the weight of two whole NHL teams on him and several fists and sticks flying at any part of him they could reach. Snowy yanked off one of the man’s skates and tossed it over the half boards with an animalistic cry. It took seven refs to break up the dog pile.

Days later when both Eric and Jack had been banned from the next two games and Elliot had officially been asked to leave the Falconers, contract voided, the two Samwell alumni set themselves down into the uncomfortable fold out chairs usually reserved for big hall interviews like the one they were at. Alexei and Kent had opted to join them and the whole overarching theme/message of the interview, arranged only due to ‘the incident’ as Mrs. Bittle called it, was tolerance and playing fair and trying to oust more bigots from major league sports.

While the majority of the reporters, of course, had an over abundance of questions about how romantic ties made fights out on the ice more intense, a fair few of them were there instead to make comment about Eric’s unforeseen aggressiveness. The blonde’s face was sprinkled with tiny scrapes and nicks and the whole of his chin was still an ugly purple color. He really didn’t look like himself. Major league player or not he was still a short, sweet, Southern boy and no one would have guessed at him dropping gloves first.

“I can be just as sweet as anyone,” Bitty laughed, leaning into the arm Jack had slung over the back of his chair, “But don’t make me put ‘em up.”


End file.
